Praeludium
by SkywardShadow
Summary: -:Spoilers: In which there is a lack of calendars, several soliloquies, one question, and one answer. :Memorial oneshot for January 26th, 2010:-


Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters therein. Or Snoopy.

**A/N: January 26****th****, 2010. We'll miss you, Mello and Matt.**

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**Praeludium**

**.**

There weren't any calendars in the apartment for two reasons. One was that neither male could really be bothered to go out and buy one; the second was that with their minds, either could calculate the date easily no matter when the last time they'd checked was.

Thanks to this the redder-haired of the two, waking up, remembered almost instantly what the date was.

The 26th.

January 26th, 2010, to be exact. It wasn't a conspicuous date to the average person, but to Matt, it was a bit more important.

Because it could very well be the last day he spent on earth.

"Hey."

A pillow collided with Matt's face as he was thinking. Temporarily distracted, he fumbled for his goggles on the bedside table (he'd gotten the bed following his argument that _he'd_ been the one to drive through a handful of time zones at an inhumane hour of the morning to dig the other out of a pile of rubble and then play doctor/surgeon, so Mello really did owe him one) and twisted to glare at the outline of his attacker in the doorway.

"Get up," Mello ordered unnecessarily. "It's time."

As if he needed reminding. Those two words-_"It's time"_-slapped Matt in the face with their implications and apparently stuck his metaphorical finger in a light socket as well, because a jolt ran through his body as it caught up to his mind.

He vaulted from the bed, completely awake (who wouldn't be?), and proceeded to follow his friend to the corner that was described as a kitchen.

They ate quickly and in silence, shoveling into their mouths whatever happened to be available even though neither was feeling particularly hungry. Matt finished first and went to prep the smokescreen, solely for something to do. Mello-predictably-was chomping on a chocolate bar by the time he returned.

"Everything's ready," Matt informed him. Silently he marveled that his voice could still sound so unconcerned, even on today of all days.

Mello acknowledged the statement with a brief nod. The apartment fell back into silence.

Sensing that the blond would prefer to be left alone (he was having similar feelings himself), Matt made himself scarce. He showered and changed and then sat on the bed, in the dark, staring at nothing while his mind cranked away.

It was strange. Every blink, every breath, seemed to count for something like it never had previously. Or maybe it was just because he was noticing them more. After all, he might not be breathing much longer.

_Funny, the things you notice when you're less than an hour away from death._

He hadn't spoken to Mello about his thoughts on the plan. Like the fact that he thought it was suicidal (Mello knew that, somewhere). Or the fact that he didn't think it was enough to destroy Kira (Mello _did_ know that, didn't he?).

Or the fact that he agreed that it was all they could do.

Actually, the two of them hadn't really spoken since Mello announced this plan in the first place. And that hadn't been much of a conversation.

"You use the smokescreen to distract the guards. I'll grab Takada."

"All right."

That had been the gist. No more than a few words between them since.

He wondered if that was because Mello didn't want Matt to confront him with pointed reality. It had been that way in their days at the House as well-Mello was the brainstormer of ridiculous schemes; Matt was the one who shot them down until they were semi-possible.

And Matt _had_ been considering the plausibility of this whole thing working out favorably. The odds weren't exactly worthy of a happy little Snoopy dance.

He was well aware that Mello didn't believe that he-Matt-would die. Or at least he wasn't allowing himself to believe it. Whether the blond thought the same for himself would probably always be a mystery.

Matt heard shuffling around in the other room; hat could only mean that it was about to start.

He allowed himself one more short soliloquy.

_Logic says we're not going to get through this-at the very least, one of us isn't. And these odds aren't the kind I can overturn by hoping._

_But…_

The door began to creak open and Matt hurriedly changed whatever his mind-self had been about to say.

_I guess it can't hurt to get a second opinion._

He stood wordlessly and passed the other man, making his way to the door. Mello joined him a half-second later.

_Now or never._

"Hey, Mel."

"What?"

Matt succeeded in sounding casual when he asked, "Do you think either of us are gonna make it?"

Mello's expressionless look melted into a smirk and a toneless laugh.

"No."

_Nothing unexpected there._

One corner of the redhead's mouth turned up. "Thanks for the honesty."

"Whatever. Let's go."

Mello stalked out of the doorway without looking back. Matt followed suit, never faltering.

The door closed behind them.

**.**

**Fin**

**.**


End file.
